


heim

by wiildflowers



Series: i'll feel you burn in every drop of my blood [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, German Armin Arlert, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2019-01-10 02:32:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12289338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiildflowers/pseuds/wiildflowers
Summary: Lost and weary and far from Germany, Armin learns that home was with him all along, trailing after him with forest-green eyes.





	heim

 

"Trees have long thoughts,

long-breathing and restful,

just as they have longer lives than ours.

They are wiser than we are,

as long as we do not listen to them.

But when we have learned how to listen to trees,

then the brevity and the quickness

and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts

achieve an incomparable joy.

 

 

 

There was a man on Armin's shoulder; a strange little man, occasionally tugging on his blonde locks as if in an attempt to steer him back the way he had come.

 

Somewhere, anywhere, away from this horrible, unfamiliar, cold place. The man was always talking, murmuring words softly into his ear; reciting books Armin had long past memorized rather than trying to interact with the students around him. Most days, however, it was the phrase, insistent syllables dripping from the spirit's lips like tar to form a word that was all too familiar to his ears.

 

_Heim_ , he murmured, at least thrice a day, as if afraid the first word to leave the blonde's mind would be one of the most important. As if Armin would forget about home, of all places; just accept his fate in this strange new land. As if the man on his shoulder knew with certainty that one day Armin would wake up and not remember a thing. Honestly, the blonde was almost convinced he would, too. He didn't belong here. He couldn't fit in, he didn't know how. Conversations were almost as hard as the language itself, with all of its rules made to be broken and hollow 'I'm doing well, and you?'s.

 

One day, the man finally ceased talking. It was just for a moment, just a singular moment as a pair of emerald eyes met his own in a flurry of papers and notes. Pure, unrestrained energy seemed to have plowed straight into him, but the breath would've been knocked out of his lungs either way with just one glance into those orbs. Bruised knuckles collided with the ground at the same time a halo of golden hair seemed to, and both parties had rushed to collect their respective possessions. A hint of a smile played at the other's lips as he cracked a joke, and Armin laughed nervously, despite himself. The rest was a blur.

 

From then on, the man spoke less and less, and the boy with eyes the color of the forest spoke more and more. His shoulder grew lighter and lighter with every passing day, until one day, the man had disappeared entirely. An arm around his waist, another gently ruffling his hair. Armin woke one day with a pair of soft lips against his own, gazed into those emerald eyes, and breathed a soft sigh of relief. _He was home._

 

 

Whoever has learned how to listen to trees

no longer wants to be a tree.

He wants to be nothing

except what he is.

That is home.

That is happiness."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The introduction (and ending) of this oneshot is from [here](https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/27688-for-me-trees-have-always-been-the-most-penetrating-preachers) (I know, I probably shouldn't have trusted Goodreads for the translation); although I'm not too familiar with the text myself, it seemed fitting. I wrote this quite some time ago, although I hope you enjoy!


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